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墨書 Inktalez
"He's dead," Fat Ma repeated in disbelief.
The Mud Man nodded heavily, saying, "There are no obvious wounds."
"Could it really be that he died from a curse?" I squatted down, asking incredulously, but neither of them could provide an answer.
Brother Jiang had been sitting by the fire without moving, so I called out, "Second Brother, come take a look!"
Brother Jiang got up and examined Uncle Li's body. After a moment, he said gloomily, "I can't tell either."
"It seems he really did die from a curse," Fat Ma said.
I sighed, still unwilling to believe it. A curse? Could there really be curses in this world? I hesitantly asked, "Curses... do they really exist?"
"The so-called curse might be the result of someone using poison," the Mud Man replied.
"Poison?" I echoed.
The Mud Man nodded. "Poisoning, especially with the techniques from Yunnan, is particularly insidious. The methods are extremely sophisticated; once poisoned, a person may not even realize how they died."
Fat Ma interjected, "Mud Man, it can't be as sinister as you say!"
The Mud Man's expression turned serious. "Fatty, you'd better not mess with people like that; otherwise, you'll end up suffering terribly!"
Fat Ma was intimidated by the Mud Man but still tried to act tough. "When the time comes, I'll have a gun and just shoot them."
"Let's not talk about that anymore. We should focus on giving him a proper burial," I said softly.
"Fat Ma, you go dig a hole," I instructed.
Fat Ma was reluctant, so I added, "Then you carry the body!" With that, Fat Ma took off running into the woods to dig.
The mud man and I carried the body.
After burying the person, we placed three cigarettes at the grave to ensure a smooth passage. No changes for the Zombie or the Evil Spirit.
After the four of us paid our respects, we sat around the campfire.
I asked, "Second Brother, what exactly did you see earlier?"
Brother Jiang visibly hesitated, then made a swallowing motion and said, "This is not something we can handle! We should leave tomorrow; whatever happens here is no longer our concern."
He was unwilling to elaborate, and I had no choice but to fall silent again.
Yet I felt as if we had touched upon something we shouldn't have.
A caravan of ten had camped here, and everyone in the nearby village had died. Then suddenly, someone appeared tonight but fell victim to a curse.
Although I couldn't be entirely sure that Uncle Li's words were true, they had drawn us into a fog of uncertainty.
The four of us sat around the fire, speechless and sleepless, while the night remained eerily calm.
The next day, the sky released a dim light as the four of us began to pack our things. Fat Ma's haul was the most abundant!
As we trekked through mountains and rivers, Fat Ma complained incessantly. However, when I offered to help him lighten his load, he stubbornly refused.
"Fat Ma," the clay figurine said, "You won't die from exhaustion."
"I'd rather die from exhaustion. When the time comes and you don't have money to marry a wife, don't come crying to me for a loan," Fat Ma retorted.
The clay figurine was left speechless by his response and could only remain silent. Who knows, he might really need to borrow money from Fat Ma, the local tycoon, in the future. It's always good to leave a line of retreat for future encounters.
After crossing the mountains, taking a boat across rivers, and walking for a while, we finally arrived at the banks of the Min River in Dujiangyan City. Upon reaching Dujiangyan City, Brother Jiang bid us farewell.
Before parting, he told Fat Ma that someone would deliver their payment to them.
Fat Ma asked curiously, "Second Brother, do you know where I live?"
"I will find out," Brother Jiang replied before leaving.
Fat Ma quietly greeted him; fortunately, this time he had gained quite a bit. He didn't dwell on the payment too much.
After watching Brother Jiang leave, we decided to stay here for a few days to rest and enjoy some sightseeing.
We found an inn and took a nice hot shower. Then we went out to find a restaurant for dinner.
Dujiangyan is not a large city, but it is famous for the Dujiangyan Dam. Many tourists come here, making the city relatively lively and prosperous.
We randomly chose a restaurant, and as soon as we sat down, a waiter approached us and asked, "What would you like to eat, Boss?"
Suddenly reminded of the events in that village, I casually started chatting about it.
The waiter shook his head and said, "I'm not sure about that, but our boss should know. Let me call the shopkeeper over so you can ask."
I laughed and said, "Thank you for your help!"
The assistant waved his hand at us and replied, "No problem!"
Soon, the Shopkeeper was called out. He wore a long robe and had a bit of a bald spot on his head. He looked to be in his fifties or sixties and approached us with a smile, saying, "What can I help you with, esteemed guests?"
Fat Ma instructed the assistant to bring the dishes.
I reiterated the question I had asked earlier.
The Shopkeeper's expression changed slightly, and then he began to speak confidently, "As for that village from thirty years ago, I'm quite familiar with it. I have a distant relative from that village. That year, a caravan came to their village," he chuckled lightly and continued, "They quickly rose to prominence and lived in great wealth. My family was poor back then, and my distant relative often helped us out."
"Later on, because they gained fame, they made it into the newspapers. Strange things started happening at that time; all the people in the village disappeared. And the key point is that their houses were burned down—those were Western-style houses they built."
"Western-style houses!" I exclaimed.
"Then how come I never..." Fat Ma started to say, but I quickly stopped him.
"Yes! I even visited there once," the Shopkeeper added.
"Did they ever come looking for you afterward?" the Mud Man asked.
The Boss's expression darkened as he replied, "They never appeared again after that. That's all I know. Is there anything else you need help with?"
I shook my head and thanked the Boss.
The Boss then stepped back, and at that moment, the dishes were served.
Suddenly, Boss turned around and approached us cautiously, saying, "By the way, I still have the newspaper from back then."
My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly asked, "Shopkeeper, can we take a look at it?"
The Shopkeeper readily agreed and soon ran out from the back room holding an old newspaper. He dusted it off and handed it to us, but Boss advised us not to look at it just yet, fearing that someone might see and report us. I understood the state of the world and tucked it away.
Back at the inn, I finally opened the newspaper. It was indeed the Sichuan Morning Post from the 1940s. The ruling party at that time was still the Nationalist Party, but they were already showing signs of decline.
The headline read: "Li Family Village Works Hard to Prosper, Contributing to the Nation's Exploration of New Paths." At that time, it was still referred to as such.
I continued reading; the text had faded somewhat and was even a bit blurred in places.
The content was nothing more than a display of merit, followed by praises for the government, concluding with a hope that all citizens would learn from this example.
These were all empty words, but when I saw the accompanying photo in the newspaper, my heart jolted, sending waves of emotion through me.
Although the photo was old and worn, there were only one or two faces that were somewhat recognizable. However, one figure stood out; despite only being able to make out her outline, I recognized her immediately.
Father, I repeated in my mind, struggling to calm my emotions. This was beyond anything I had known about him.
I stared at the photo in a daze when Fat Ma nudged me and asked what was wrong. Then he pointed at the woman in the photo and said, "Old Sun, I feel like I've seen this woman before."
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